


Too Darn Hot

by Nostalgia_101



Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:55:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4039558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostalgia_101/pseuds/Nostalgia_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes existing on the 'Smorgasbord of Satan' diet can really get a girl down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Darn Hot

**Author's Note:**

> Set during mid season one.

“This was supposed to be my ‘day spa’ brain,” Liv sighed, wiping a smear of flour off her nose with the back of her hand. “My ‘catch a break from all the crime’ brain,” she continued, opening the oven to lift out a tray of red velvet cupcakes and place them on the cooling rack. “But no, I had to go and eat the brain of a Martha-freakin’-Stewart doppelganger _on crack_ … Hey!” Liv slapped away a stray hand making its way across the kitchen bench towards the cupcakes. “They’re not finished yet, try a macaron instead.”

Ravi threw her a sulky pout, eyeing up the line of raspberry-flavored treats. “On a positive note,” he said, inspecting each macaron for the best buttercream to meringue ratio, “the real Ms. Stewart’s brain probably would have been a cornucopia of crime _and_ cooking, so count your blessings.” Ravi made his selection and shoved the entire macaron into his mouth, letting out a small moan of pleasure as he chewed. “If I had to bet on what a dream filled with sunshine tasted like, I’m pretty sure this’d be it.”

Liv mustered up a smile, scooping cream cheese into a bowl for the cupcake frosting. “Well I’m glad one of us gets to enjoy my MasterChef debut,” she said, adding a dash of vanilla essence to the mixture. “Everything still tastes like cardboard to me. Cardboard with a side of dirt.”

“Dirt and cardboard a regular part of your diet before you got the big Z, were they?” said Ravi, licking crumbs off his fingers.

“You watch your mocking or I’m officially cutting off your sugar supply,” Liv said, pointing her rubber spatula in warning at him.

He held up his hands in placation. “I promise to be good. Although the eternal question of ‘who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?’ may finally be answered if I have a sarcasm relapse.” Ravi picked up a couple of dirty plates and bowls from the workbench and piled them into the near-full dishwasher, tsking at the disorderly way Liv had arranged everything. 

Liv held out a teaspoon to him as he returned to his wooden stool. “Try this frosting for me. Let me know if it’s okay.”

Ravi took the proffered spoon and put it in his mouth, closing his eyes in satisfaction at the taste. 

“Good?” asked Liv somewhat mournfully.

“Bloody brilliant,” he replied, taking another scoop out of the bowl. “I may need restraining if you don’t want me to Augustus Gloop my way through the rest of this.”

“I’ll crazy-Wonka-boat-ride your ass with a side of zombie-mode, will that do?” she asked with a smirk.

His eyes widened. “I am officially retiring this spoon,” he said, placing it on the bench with reverence. “May no one use it again.” Ravi observed her as she set the frosting aside while the cupcakes were still cooling, clearing more space for her next creation. “Why don’t you make something you’ll enjoy next?” he suggested, earning a derisive snort in return.

“Oh yeah, I’ll whip up a batch of delicious jalapeno brownies with sriracha sauce,” she retorted, wiping her hands on her ‘ _your opinion wasn’t an ingredient_ ’ apron. “Just like Grandma Hellfire used to make when I was young.”

“It can’t hurt to try can it?” Ravi said with a shrug. “And you won’t have to worry about me stealing any, as appetizing as you’ve made them sound.”

Liv slumped onto her own stool, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said quietly, pushing the sugar canister from side to side. “Nothing’s the same anyway.” She chuckled humorlessly. “Sampling someone’s frontal lobe really takes the joie de vivre out of regular eating habits, y’know?”

Ravi reached out and gave her arm a quick squeeze. “I’m sorry, Liv.”

She offered him a small smile. “It’s alright, I’ll be fine. I just get in a funk sometimes,” she said, before clapping her hands together in a practical manner. “But unless that funk is uptown, it has no business being in this kitchen right now when there is flan to be made.”

“And as your number one flan, I will support you in any endeavor.”

“Excellent pun, sir. I’d even go so far as to say, _flan-tastic_.”

“Do you think we should take our comedy tour on the road?”

“Just try and stop me.”

* * *

When Liv arrived at work the next morning she was surprised to see a medium-sized purple gift bag waiting for her in the break room. She picked it up and wandered out to where Ravi was inspecting the rat cages, jotting down notes. “What’s this all about?” she asked with a curious smile. “Did I forget my own birthday?”

Ravi glanced up from his clipboard, giving her a grin in return. “Don’t be silly, the singing gorilla telegram I have planned for that occasion would never fit in there.”

“Wow, can _you_ forget my birthday?”

“Just open your present you ungrateful thing.”

Chuckling, Liv unstuck the tape at the top of the bag and peered inside, becoming amused by the contents. “Hot sauce, spices, jalapenos,” she rattled off, reaching in with one hand to pull out a bottle. “A ten-chili-rating sriracha sauce?” she said in awe, glancing back at Ravi. “I didn’t even know it went that high.”

“I had to visit five different shops to find it on my quest,” he replied, raising one fist to his chest in a mock salute. “That was after I’d already traipsed through a warlock’s cavern, crossed a bridge guarded by trolls and signed a blood oath which promised I wouldn’t sue anyone if I hallucinated myself into a coma or eroded my own tongue, but it was worth it.”

“Arf Vader strikes again?”

“Too right,” he replied proudly. “You may be stuck on a restricted diet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still have variety.”

Liv clutched the bag to her body like it contained precious jewels. “Thank you, Ravi,” she said sincerely.

He shrugged and gave her a bashful smile. “It’s the least I could do after the dessert buffet you made me yesterday.” Motioning her over to where he was standing, Ravi showed her his notes. “I’m also making quite a lot of progress with the rat pack – although I confess playing actual Rat Pack-themed songs through the speaker was a bit much.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you really thought ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’ through did you?”

“Not the best confidence-booster, I must admit.” Ravi nudged her shoulder with his and grinned. “But what I am confident about is finding you a cure sooner rather than later. Trust me, Liv, before you know it you’ll be in day spa mode for real, eating whatever takes your fancy.”

Placing her bag on the closest stainless steel body tray, Liv lurched forward and wrapped her arms around Ravi, startling the both of them with the ferocity of her hug. “You’re the best, you know that?” she said in a thick voice, resting the side of her head against his chest. She listened to the steady thump of his heart as she felt his arms envelope her.

“I do, but it’s always nice to hear it out loud,” he teased, smiling when he heard her huff out a laugh. Ravi gently rubbed her back with his free hand before clearing his throat. “Right, anyway, we better get some work done,” he said, slowly letting her slide out from his hold. “I hear there’s another John Doe on the way.”

“Looks like I’ll be trying out my new hot sauce,” said Liv, putting her gift bag in a safe spot and retrieving her lab coat from its wall hook. “Should I have signed a blood oath with Rumpelstiltskin too?”

“Probably. I don’t think our healthcare plan covers tongue erosion.” Ravi rolled up his sleeves. “Any guesses as to what special skills this brain might encompass?”

Liv untucked her hood from underneath her coat. “Hopefully nothing that requires using an oven or wearing a novelty apron.”

“My official role as taste tester will be deeply missed,” said Ravi solemnly.

“I brought you the last of the cupcakes, Augustus, so don’t worry.”

He grasped her shoulder and stared her straight in the eyes. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Liv smirked. “I do. But it’s _always_ nice to hear it out loud.”


End file.
